


Christmas May Come a Little Late This Year

by doctoraicha



Series: Butter Chicken [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Jewish Character, Jewish Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctoraicha/pseuds/doctoraicha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is a barrister, Merlin is a shopkeeper. Can they make it through flat building works, tough cases, and Hannukah gift misunderstandings to find love? And will Arthur ever stop lurking behind newspaper racks?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas May Come a Little Late This Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ragnelleloathly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragnelleloathly/gifts).



> This is the first gift fic I've done in a long time. I tried to pack as many fun tropes that the person requested into it - and I hope you all enjoy it. 
> 
> This is rated really, really G. However, it didn't want to end here, so I expect to write a rather more adult prologue after this is revealed!

Arthur chided himself, even as he looked out of the corner of his eye at the tall, dark haired bloke who was always at the counter at the corner shop across the street from his flat. Arthur felt he should have more… something. Pride, maybe – he was a Pendragon, The Honorable Arthur Pendragon, as it stood, and someday, when his grandfather and father finally kicked it he’d be a peer. Dignity, maybe – he was a barrister, and thus argued cases in the highest courts in the land despite only reaching 33 years of age. Confidence, maybe – he was well dressed, well off, and well liked, and he knew it. But something – maybe his innate Englishness – made it really difficult for him to pull when he wasn’t at a club. He'd been lurking behind the newspaper racks a couple of times a week for two or three months, and he still couldn’t tell if this bloke, Merlin, was anything more than friendly.

He doubted it. After all, Merlin was either the owner or the manager, since he was always in the shop. Any time Arthur popped in to buy a chocolate bar or a packet of crisps on his way home from chambers Merlin was there, invariably friendly but never overly intrusive. His eyes slid past Arthur in his dark grey suits without lingering. If Arthur didn’t trust his instincts completely – he was a brilliant barrister, after all – he’d think Merlin was straight.

In a relationship then, or married. Arthur sighed, and Merlin looked over at him. Arthur felt his cheeks redden slightly, and he looked quickly down at the rack of papers. Financial Times, and maybe a Standard for good measure. He snatched them quickly as if he’d been looking at them all along, and came around the rack toward the till. 

Before he could make it there, a gorgeous blonde stepped up, gave Merlin a cheeky grin, and said, “How’s the flat hunt going?”

Merlin’s face fell. Arthur thought he looked even more attractive without his grin, and felt his stomach clutch just a little. “Jesus, Elena, I can’t find anything. Can you believe they want to do works over the holidays? I can’t close the shop and go to Mum’s for six weeks, and I can’t find any place I can take on a short term let. It’s doing my head in.”

The woman, Elena, leaned over the counter to hug him. “Oh, love, if only Gwaine and I weren’t squashed as it is you could stay with us,” she said.

“Well, come to that, Morgana said I was welcome to her sofa, but she lives too far away and it would take hours to get to the shop.”

Elena laughed. “You’re being rather dramatic! Forty five minutes or an hour, probably, but not hours.”

Merlin ran a hand through his hair. Arthur, mesmerised by the hand and wishing, somehow, that it was his, almost missed what they had been saying. “Sorry, wait. Did you say Morgana?”

Merlin and Elena looked at him, almost as if they’d forgotten they weren’t alone. Elena narrowed her eyes. English gentlemen don’t eavesdrop, her glare said.

“Only my sister is Morgana Pendragon, and how many Morganas can there be?” he hastened to add. Morgana, Arthur’s sister, was a model turned London stage actress.

“Are you Arthur?” Merlin asked. 

“Er, yes,” he said, and Elena took a step back as he awkwardly offered his hand to Merlin around the two newspapers he clutched to his chest.

“I can’t believe it!” Merlin exclaimed. “You come in here almost every evening, and all along you’re Morgana’s little brother that she’s always trying to get to come out to pub night. 

“Sorry about that,” Arthur compulsively apologised. “I’m pretty busy with work most of the time.”

Merlin gestured to the till. “Me too,” he said. “Do you live around here?”

“Just across the road,” Arthur offered, gesturing in the general direction of his flat.

“I’d have thought you’d be living in one of those new flats in Docklands or somewhere else suitably posh,” Merlin said with a smile.

“I like Bloomsbury,” Arthur said, a little defensively. “I inherited the flat from my Mum, and it’s really convenient to chambers, and it has parking, which as you know is gold in the city. I can walk to work on a nice day and three buses pick up right in front, so…”.”

Merlin held his hands up. “Only joking, mate,” he said. “I love it here, too, or would if the leasing company hadn’t decided to do major building works in the middle of winter, and basically evict us all.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue. 

“Asbestos, apparently, and they’re got to redo the roof, so it’s all got to come out and it’ll be cheaper when it’s all done together. It’s in all the common areas, some of the flats, including mine, in the floors, and while it’s all torn out they’re going to do the heating system, which was, I admit, probably installed during the reign of Queen Victoria and desperately needs an update. I’ve got to find a new place on short notice, and I’m already shorthanded in the shop, so I have to close every time I go to look at a place. Nothing I’ve seen is fit for a dog to live in long term and there’s nothing decent nearby that will do a two month lease except those ridiculously overpriced executive flats in Westminster,” Merlin said, all in one breath. 

He gave Arthur a speculative look and added, in a tone that Arthur recognized as having been picked up from his sister, and prepared himself for the worst. “As Morgana and I go back ages and as you’re living right across the street, I have to ask. You don’t happen to have a spare room I could rent, do you? It would only be for the two months, three tops, and then I’m back to mine with all new floors and heating, and I won’t have to take a dive in Islington just because it’s close and available?”

Arthur felt like all his Christmas gifts were wrapped up with one bow, and the rush he felt was immediately dampened by the idea of sharing a toilet with someone who was after all practically a stranger for two or three months. The benefit of seeing Merlin in his bathrobe or maybe only a towel would be both a pleasure and a torture.

“I actually do have a spare room,” Arthur said, and was rewarded with a huge grin. “But let’s have a curry and talk before we rush into anything. I’d hate to kill one of my sister’s friends and I’m particular about the state of my flat.”

Merlin quickly agreed. “I close the shop at nine, weeknights, and I know that’s a bit late but I could meet you at Tavistock Tandoori about ten past, would that be alright?”

“It’s just gone eight now, so yeah. I love their butter chicken,” Arthur agreed, and paid for his newspapers. “I’ll see you there,” he said.

Arthur left the shop and crossed the road. As he entered his block, he told himself to stop feeling so giddy, that it wasn’t a date. Although his head understood that Merlin had only wanted to talk to him because he was Morgana’s brother and he wanted Arthur’s flat, he had wanted to say more than “Cheers for that” to Merlin for months and although he knew the words had only been surprised out of him he still felt accomplished. 

He hung his long wool coat on the stand just inside the door to his flat, and headed upstairs to the bathroom. He stripped, took a quick shower, and changed into dark jeans, a soft crimson jumper, and a white collared shirt. He decided on his beloved red Paul Smith oxfords that he’d never dream of wearing to chambers, and ran practiced hands through his hair. He glanced at his watch as he tidied the bathroom. 8:40. Good. The restaurant, a small place, wasn’t usually very busy but he wanted to get there a little early, just in case they had to wait for a table.

He only beat Merlin by five minutes – just long enough to be able to stake out a table and take the inside chair – but the restaurant wasn’t busy. They had both been there often enough that they ordered without glancing at the proffered menu, and both opted for the butter chicken. Merlin took extra rice and Arthur asked for plain naan. 

“So, I think I should tell you straight away that I’m gay, before you make your decision about moving in,” Arthur started. 

Merlin looked a little surprised. “Well, that’s fine, of course, because I am, too. But I didn’t know you were. I’ve crap gaydar,” he grinned. 

“Then it won’t be a problem,” Arthur said, reddening a little. Merlin was gay – and it was looking like they’d be sharing space for a couple of months. Long months? or short? Arthur wasn’t sure.

Merlin looked speculative. “Well, no. And it will be a short term thing, and I think I can put up with anything for a couple of months. Boyfriend?”

“Not for a while. You?” It was the expected question, but Arthur felt like his whole future hung on it.

“Broke up in the summer. He was an ass,” Merlin said, taking a drink of his lager.

Arthur drank, too, and changed the subject. “So, are you the shop manager?”

“Owner, actually. Inherited it from my father, right after Uni, and I’ve been running it ever since. It’s not bad – pays the bills with a bit to spare, and I meet a lot of interesting people.”

“Speaking of, how do you know my sister?”

“Ah, that. Well, my roommate in Uni was this guy Lance, who is dating Gwen, who as you know …”

“Was Morgana’s best friend growing up. I even dated her before I realised I wasn’t into all that.”

“So when I moved up here from Cambridge-” Arthur felt himself make the face that all Oxforders get when confronted with the enemy, and Merlin abruptly broke off. 

“Oxford, then? What, Jaggers?” Merlin asked, referring to Jesus College, Oxford, one of the best for law.

“Christ Church, actually, like my grandfather and his before him. What did you do at Cambridge?”

“Arch and Anth at Trinity,” Merlin answered. Trinity was often considered the best college at Cambridge University. 

They talked comfortably, like old friends, and before they realised, they were calling for the check. “Let me get it,” Merlin insisted. “This was my idea, after all.”

“Would you like to come by and see the flat?” Arthur offered. It was late, but Merlin was really pressed for time, and Arthur knew it.

“Could I come by tomorrow after I close the shop?” 

“Sure. Grayland Court, 3C, on the third floor.”

They parted at the corner, Arthur heading back toward the flat and Merlin heading for his bus home.

*** 

Arthur felt like a bride waiting for the wedding by 8:30 the next evening. The flat was immaculate, but although Arthur loved it he knew it wasn’t perfect. The kitchen was small, and you had to go all the way down the hall to the lounge for the dining table. The only bathroom was upstairs, and the spare room was on the street side of the flat. The Grey’s Inn road was busy early and late, and although Merlin would be able to see his shop from the bedroom window, it was a small room. On the other hand, the kitchen was fully modernized with granite counters and a small breakfast bar; Arthur had run hardwood throughout the main floor, and the lounge was large, and bright, with four windows, since the flat was a corner unit. 

Merlin rang, and Arthur buzzed him up. He was waiting at the door when Merlin topped the stairs, and greeted him with a smile. 

He took Merlin’s coat. “Kitchen’s right here,” he said. “And just down the hall there is the lounge.”

He stood in the hall while Merlin peeked into the kitchen, and followed Merlin through to the lounge to the sounds of appreciation. He felt the tension start to lessen. 

“Is this the toilet?” Merlin asked, indicating a door in the hall.

“That’s just Harry’s room,” Arthur said. “Ah, Harry Potter, the cupboard under the stairs?” he clarified, and Merlin laughed. “Bath is upstairs, with the bedrooms,” he added.

Merlin took in the spare room, exclaiming over the view of his shop. “I would love to move in here. I have two weeks to be out of my flat, but they say every day I can get out early is a day they can start the building works. How much would you charge? And could I pay weekly?”

“What do you say to a glass of wine downstairs, and we can talk it over?”

“Perfect.”

Over wine, they decided that Merlin would pay the same rate as he was preparing to pay at the dive in Islington, although Merlin protested that Arthur’s flat was worth far more. Arthur didn’t know anything about rental rates and had never let the room – had never let a flat, come to that, since he’d stayed in a house his family owned during both his undergrad and post grad degrees – and he insisted that he was doing a favour for a mate of his sister’s and he wouldn’t take advantage, since he certainly didn’t need the money. Before Merlin left, Arthur gave him the spare set of keys – “This skeleton key opens the gate, the square one opens the outer door, the large round one opens the inner door, the smallest one opens the top lock and the round one with the green plastic top opens the main door lock. ” Merlin had laughed, but took the large ring of keys happily.

***

Early Saturday saw Arthur dressed in some fairly manky jogging bottoms and tee shirt, waiting for Merlin to arrive with his vanload of things. He’d offered to drive over himself and help, but when Merlin found out Arthur drove a convertible with leather interior, he said that Lance and Leon had offered to help, and that he planned to hire a removals men to bring over the essentials. Merlin didn’t have to empty his flat completely, but was bringing over all his personal belongings and leaving his furniture covered for the duration of the renovations. 

Leon hugged Arthur, being an old friend of his and Morgana’s, and Arthur felt a slight pang at all the missed pub nights with his sister and mates when he had been in chambers late, or when he had been socializing with his head of chambers, or some other such thing. He was quite a young barrister, and he didn’t regret the long nights, but he knew he’d missed some of the good times young professionals in London typically enjoyed. 

Lance, Leon, Merlin, and Arthur, along with the two movers, made quick work of Merlin’s boxes. Soon they were scattered across the lounge, and Merlin was happily hanging his clothes in the wardrobes in his new bedroom. Merlin had brought a dozen or so boxes in addition to his clothes, and half of those were full of books and DVDs. 

Arthur and Merlin unpacked his books onto shelves in the lounge that had been cleared for him. By the end of the day, both Merlin and Arthur were tired but feeling pleased with themselves. They’d unpacked all Merlin’s things, stuffed the cardboard boxes in the storage room in the cellar storage reserved for the flat, and were contemplating dinner. It was all feeling dangerously domestic when Morgana rang. She was downstairs, and Arthur buzzed her in.

“Brother mine!” she exclaimed, kissing both cheeks and waving her purple alligator skin Birkin bag and two bottles of champagne in Merlin’s general direction. Arthur rescued the champagne, put a bottle in a wine bucket and carried it into the lounge, where Merlin and Morgana had instantly curled up on a couch. Morgana’s impossibly high-heeled Laboutin boots were in danger of poking holes in Arthur’s sofa, but she was blissfully careless of them.

“Open it, Arty,” she said, indicating the three flutes she must have retrieved from his dining room on the low table in front of the sofa. “I’m so pleased you two have finally met. I can’t tell you how often I tried to get you together, but with one always so busy in chambers and the other chained to the shop, well! To my brother and one of my best friends!” she said, lifting a glass to hide a small smile. 

Arthur felt the tips of his ears go red, and was gratified to see that Merlin’s had, too. Morgana’s relentless matchmaking had been one reason Arthur had started avoiding pub nights. He hated being set up, even with hot actor types she’d set on him. “More champagne?’ he offered, to cover his embarrassment, and poured all around. 

Twenty minutes and several topics of conversation later, Morgana glanced at her watch. “It’s barely eight,” she said. “Let’s finish the bottles, call a car, and go out to Avalon!” Morgana said. “I’ll call Gwen and Lance and everyone right now to meet us there.”

Merlin smiled. “Sounds great, but I’m in desperate need of a shower.” 

“Me too,” Arthur said. “Morgs, if you get us something to eat, I’ll call a car service. Merlin, you get first shower.” He drained his glass, refilled it with the last of the first bottle, and picked up his mobile to call a car service he often used. Stepping into the hall to make the call, he heard the second bottle’s pop as someone – probably Morgana – opened it. He booked a car, even on such short notice. The Pendragon name meant something to the company, one they all used.

“The car will be here at 10,” he announced, as Merlin, too, put down his mobile.

“I can’t believe we’re going out after the day we’ve had!” Merlin exclaimed. 

“All the more reason to go out,” Morgana said.

“Agreed,” said Arthur. “It’s been far too long and you know I love Avalon,” he said. “Merlin, get upstairs and get in the shower, or I will,” he said. 

“Just organising food,” he said. “Morgana’s agreed to pick it up. They’re bound to get a kick out of her showing up at our little local curry shop.”

Morgana was a model-turned-actress, famous in London, if not worldwide, for her perfect bone structure and porcelain skin. She flashed her celebrated smile as Arthur offered, “I’ll come with you.”

Merlin went up to shower while the Pendragon siblings shuffled into coats and headed to the door. Morgana insisted on the elevator – “These shoes aren’t made for four flights of carpeted stairs!” – and they were out into the cold night. When they returned with the curries, Arthur went upstairs to shower, taking another glass of champagne with him, and leaving Morgana setting up dinner on the dining table. He met Merlin in the hall, wet and wrapped in a towel. He had trouble keeping his eyes on Merlin’s face, rather than on the droplets following the black line of hair down to the edge of the towel.

“I’ll be quick, but don’t wait dinner for me,” Arthur said. “Car will be here before we know it.”

Arthur showered quickly but took more time than usual at his wardrobe. He rarely felt like he didn’t have anything to wear, but somehow a night out at one of London’s hottest clubs with one of London’s hottest former models and sexy as sin Merlin with his pretty bum and ears that would make a great set of handles – well, Arthur’s typical dress-for-success wardrobe mightn’t cut it tonight.

He finally settled on tight black jeans and a soft as sin white tee shirt that showed off his golden skin. He chose his red suede oxfords again – lucky shoes, those – and headed down to eat his butter chicken.

They finished dinner – and the champagne – just in time to get into their jackets and head downstairs when the driver called up. 

Outside, Arthur was pleased to see that they’d sent a black stretch limousine, a little ostentatious for Arthur’s taste but at least it wasn’t a pink party bus, and Morgana nodded in approval. Merlin looked a little stunned, but allowed himself to be manhandled into the car. 

The driver poured champagne for all of them from one of the bottles Arthur had ordered. The limo pulled out into Grey’s Inn Road, but turned north instead of south, as Arthur had directed. They would pick up their friends on the way to the club, make a splashy entrance behind Morgana, and get themselves a private VIP room and several complimentary bottles. Arthur had played this game before, and certainly knew how to do it well. Morgana caught his eye and smiled, because she knew what he was up to. 

“Shock and awe, bother dear?” she asked, casting an eye toward Merlin. 

Arthur’d had enough champagne to admit he was trying to impress Merlin. “If it works,” he said, and grinned.

They were off to a great night. Gwen and Lance were thrilled to be picked up, and Elena and Gwaine were just as pleased. They made it to Avalon, and were ushered straight into the VIP room, just as Arthur planned. 

Several hours later, Arthur found himself dancing with Merlin. Alcohol fueled his desire, and, his hands to Merlin’s hips, he ground suggestively against the other man. Merlin allowed his head to fall back against Arthur’s shoulder, leaving his neck open to Arthur’s mouth. Arthur nipped at Merlin’s ear, and felt the shudder that wracked Merlin when he did. “You’re bloody gorgeous,” he said.

Merlin turned toward Arthur’s voice, wide-eyed, as if he hadn’t realised who he was dancing with. Arthur saw that Merlin was pissed – absolutely pickled, actually – and his heart hit the floor. He wouldn’t take advantage. He set Merlin away, just a little, although he kept dancing. 

Arthur and Merlin were the last to be dropped home. Three am was quiet in their street, and they went to bed quickly. Merlin wouldn’t meet Arthur’s eyes, and Arthur knew Merlin felt he’d made a mistake. 

it made him feel rather deflated. 

**** 

Despite the embarrassment that followed Merlin’s first night in the flat, they fell into a routine fairly quickly. Merlin rarely saw Arthur in the morning before work, because he had a morning employee who opened the shop for him and worked 6am to 3pm. Arthur left for chambers much earlier than Merlin awoke. He typically went into the shop around noon, did all the paperwork and ordering, worked the till after Tristan left and stayed until closing – nine pm during the week, and 10pm on Fridays. He had two students who worked the weekend shifts at the shop, and rarely had to go in, but he always had to be ready in if someone called in sick. It would be easier if he wasn’t so short-handed, but two part time students and one reliable employee was certainly better than when he’d first arrived and worked 16 hour days all alone.

Merlin loved living in Arthur’s flat. His commute was down to two minutes, and one of those was spent waiting for the lights to change. He knew it was only temporary, but it was almost too easy to get used to Arthur’s routine, his coat on the rack with Merlin’s scarves. The cologne Arthur wore lingered in the bathroom, and Merlin suspected he was developing a huge crush on his gorgeous, considerate flat mate. He didn’t think that Arthur could like him, of course, so he tamped the feelings down as best he could. Arthur was posh in a way that Merlin, despite his Cambridge degree, wouldn’t ever be. The night at Avalon with its limousine and VIP room had proved that. He vaguely recalled dancing with Arthur and drinking far too much champagne. He was afraid he’d made an utter git of himself, because Arthur wouldn’t meet his eyes the next day. Arthur would want some gorgeous, high-powered, rich boyfriend, not Merlin.

*** 

Arthur’s flat smelled of Merlin, but he rarely saw him. Merlin’s teacup was in the sink, his take away in the fridge, his ridiculously coloured chunky scarves on Arthur’s coat-hooks. November slid into December in a haze of grey, cold days filled with fog and rain. Arthur had a big case – defending a woman against the charge of murdering her boyfriend – and he missed a great many meals and a lot of sleep during the two week trial.

After the verdict came in, Arthur was surprised to realise that in his quest to get his client exonerated he hadn’t seen any of his friends since the night Merlin moved in, and he hadn’t even been into the shop to buy a chocolate bar in nearly three weeks. It was also just over week until Christmas.

Arthur made it a point to step into Merlin’s shop on the way home. “Case is over, and we won!” he said by way of an opening.

“That’s great, Arthur,” Merlin said. “Chocolate’s on the house! I guess you’ll be home a little more of an evening now it’s done.”

Arthur laughed. “Christmas is coming, you know,” he said. “Have any plans?”

“Well, I’m Jewish, so no, actually,” Merlin said with a grin. “Hanukkah starts tonight, though, if you want to light the menorah with me.”

Arthur felt like an ass. He’d been Anglican since his baptism, but he didn’t usually make assumptions about others. “Sorry, I had no idea,” he said.

“No worries. Still, I’d like to light the menorah tonight.”

“We’ll put it in the front window.”

Merlin smiled then. “That would be great.” 

“Listen, I’ll go to Waitrose and get some wine and pasta, if you’re up for it?”

“That’s really nice, mate, I appreciate it.”

Arthur stopped by the flat on the way to the grocery, picked up the mail, and took a large package that looked like it was from Merlin’s mum – if she was called Hunith Emrys, that is, and got his recycled grocery bags from the hall cupboard. He was out of everything, he noted with a look in the kitchen cupboards and fridge, and made a quick list. Since the case verdict had come in early, it wasn’t quite dark as he stepped into Waitrose.

Arthur knew that Hanukkah, though a fairly minor holiday, was typically marked by gifts. He figured that the package from home was Merlin’s gift from his mum, but he wondered what would be an appropriate gift from a friend. He decided not to worry about it and just buy the kind of gifts that he would normally buy someone for Christmas. He figured that as long as he shunned reindeer pajamas his gifts would, at least, avoid offense.

Tonight’s gift would have to come from Waitrose, but he figured he could take tomorrow off and visit the Oxford road to buy something nicer. He needed to buy things for his family, his clerk, and his head of chambers, and he’d let Christmas get far too close for comfort. 

He decided on a very nice bottle of champagne for dinner – they were celebrating the holiday and his win, after all – and a good bottle of whisky for Merlin’s gift.

Over pasta and a single lighted menorah candle, Merlin regaled Arthur with tales of his misspent youth, his coming out (Uncle Gaius had, apparently, rolled his eyes and said “We all know that, Merlin, now pass the potatoes” and Arthur thought he’d quite like his Father and this Gaius to meet, because it sounded like they’d get on) and his time at Cambridge. His best mate Will had taken to calling him “Punter” when he’d gotten in, and Merlin’s mum was not amused. Hunith’s package was opened in good time, and Merlin exclaimed over the large boxes of all his favorite homemade biscuits and the new scarf she’d knitted (at least one new one every year, which explained the large collection that had taken over the coat tree in the hall). Merlin insisted on opening Arthur’s whisky for an apperatif, and pressed Arthur to take some.

***

After a lie in the next morning, Arthur took a cab not to Oxford street, but to Harvey Nichols, where he was more likely to find things his family would appreciate. After choosing a handbag for his sister, handmade leather driving gloves for his grandfather the Earl, who never drove anywhere any more but liked fine gloves, some brandy snifters for Father, a new diamond necklace for his mother, and a fine pen for his clerk, he turned to Merlin. He had no idea what to give him, and so approached a shopgirl for help.

Her nametag proclaimed her name as Freya. “How may I help you, sir?”

“I need to buy a series of Hanukkah gifts for a friend.”

“What sort of gifts, sir?”

“That’s what I need help deciding.”

“A better question, sir, might be ‘What sort of friend’. A woman friend?”

“Ah, of course. No, a man,” he said. 

She gave him an assessing look, and he felt the tips of his ears go red. “A good friend.”

She smiled, and Arthur realised that he was digging himself in deeper, so he stopped trying. “I gave him a bottle of whisky last night, but I don’t know what to give him tonight.” 

She suggested a series of small gifts, escalating in value as the week went on. “Cufflinks, a tie pin, a nice pen,” she said. “Maybe a jumper, or an umbrella?”

He choose a wooden handled umbrella, a nice tie, a sapphire tie pin, cufflinks that matched, a fine shirt, a blue cashmere sweater, and, to top it off, a Bulova watch. He looked at the pile at the cash desk and had a pang of doubt. . He had plenty of money, and he didn’t consider any of this too extravagant for a friend, but he knew his crush on Merlin had only intensified after their companionable evening. He was spending quite a bit more on Merlin than Merlin might spend on him, and he thought that maybe he would embarrass Merlin. “These are nice things, Freya, but I’m worried I’ll make him uncomfortable.”

“Perhaps sir would like these delivered to his friend’s address, and thus avoid any protestations?”

Arthur grinned. “That would be a fine idea, if he didn’t live with me,” he said, and immediately blushed at the sound of it. 

“Maybe to your friend’s workplace, then?”

“Can you do that?” Arthur asked. “Can you deliver one every day at 4pm, to his shop?” 

Freya smiled. “You will find that Harvey Nichols can provide this service, for a price.”

Arthur smiled back. “Then, Freya, what do I owe you?”

She took his card, and directed him to the gift wrapping and delivery desk on the fifth floor. Arthur made arrangements to have each gift delivered in turn, beginning with the shirt that afternoon. He didn’t sign the cards. He figured he’d tell Merlin if he asked, otherwise he’d just enjoy the secret until the end. He took the watch, since even Harvey Nicks didn’t want to deliver on Christmas.

*** 

Merlin signed for a lot of deliveries, but not usually from posh department stores. He thought perhaps Morgana was sending him a gift, so he didn’t think much of it. When he opened the box, he found a blue and white checked shirt that probably cost double or triple his usual attire. It was even in his size. He resolved to thank Morgana as soon as he could.

When his employee rang the next afternoon, Merlin was able to step across easily and take a second package from the Harvey Nichols employee. It was a smaller box, and Merlin opened it to find a nice set of silver cufflinks. He felt his forehead wrinkle in confusion, but maybe they were meant to arrive the night before with the shirt, and the driver had forgotten them.

Sunday saw him signing for yet another package, this time a blue silk Hermés tie that Merlin realised was the same colour as the shirt checks. Clearly meant to be worn together, then, and all in blue and white…. Hannukah gifts from… someone? Not his Mum, she’d sent all hers. Not Will. Maybe Cenred… No, Merlin had broken it off because Cenred had made an anti-Semetic comment, so he was unlikely. Hm. A Secret Admirer, then. That was … new.

He walked back across the street, and met Arthur just coming out of the flat. “Want to go for a pint? Leon rang and he and Elyan are at the Euston Flyer watching the Chelsea match,” Arthur said, with a glance at the package Merlin carried. 

“Hannukah gift,” Merlin said. “Let me put it upstairs and I’ll come with you.”

The walk to the pub was a cold one, and Arthur regretted not hailing a cab. Still, it was only about a 25 minute walk, when you cut through the park. Merlin didn’t mention the gifts, and Arthur was pleased; he wouldn’t lie to Merlin, exactly, but he thought it would ruin the fun if Merlin figured it out too early.

He and Merlin got to the pub just as Elyan was going to the bar for another round. They ordered theirs, and Arthur got a basket of chips to go with the lager.

His fingers itched to go to Merlin’s back, and after another round he slung one arm across the back of the bench, not quite touching Merlin. He didn’t turn toward the other man, though, and resolutely drank his beer. The match ended, but rather than leaving, Elyan and Leon rang Gwaine, who was happy to join them. Gwaine crowded onto the bench, squashing Merlin firmly against Arthur. 

Merlin’s ears went red, but Arthur slid his arm around Merlin, squeezing his shoulder with an “Alright?” in low tones in Merlin’s ear. Merlin grinned his reply, reveling in being so close to Arthur. They ate pub food, enjoyed the company of some of their best mates, and groaned as loud as the next table at the matches on the telly, despite not actually following the teams that were playing.

Later, as they walked home through the dark, cold streets, Arthur pulled Merlin close by hooking an arm around his neck. He was surprised to find that Merlin was just a little taller than he was. Merlin kept his hands firmly in his own pockets, though, and when they got up to the flat, Merlin quickly retreated upstairs, and Arthur found himself alone in the lounge. 

Clearly Merlin was attracted to him. What was holding him back?

***

Monday saw the delivery of a sapphire tie pin with tiny diamond chip accents. Merlin actually scratched his head, wracking his brain to try to think. Who could it be? Who was close enough, who liked him enough to spend so much money?

As he reheated his curry later that evening, his thoughts strayed to Arthur. Could it be he who was sending the gifts? But he hadn’t said anything about the tie the day before. Merlin thought it unlikely.

On Tuesday, Merlin received a blue cashmere jumper, similar to a red one Arthur often wore. When he got home, Arthur, who had taken the entire week off, was cooking in his bare feet. “Take these through to the dining table, will you?” Arthur directed, filling Merlin’s hands with table settings for two people. Arthur didn’t even eye the plastic bag containing the Harvey Nichols box. Merlin complied, and added glassware from the wine bar in the dining area. He left the bag on the sofa and went upstairs to change. When he got back downstairs, Arthur was carrying salad and shrimp pasta into the lounge. “Come eat,” he commanded.

Merlin heaped salad, rice, and shrimp into his plate. “Do you have plans for Christmas?” he asked Arthur. “I’m going to open the shop in the morning, but I’ll close at 1.”

“I’ll have dinner with my family on Boxing day – I’ll have to drive out to Wiltshire, but Gran and the Earl insist. I will probably stay out there four or five days.”

Merlin smiled. “What about Christmas day?”

“Roast with all the works at Morgana’s. Aren’t you going?”

“I was invited, but hadn’t decided to close the shop until today.”

“If I leave you alone at home, the harpy will never forgive me,” Arthur said. “You’d better come, of course.”

They finished their meal and adjourned to the sofa to watch QI. Arthur loved quiz programmes, and Merlin loved Stephen Fry, so it was a good choice. Merlin had to move the bag containing the jumper out of the way, and was trying to find a way to bring it up without sounding accusatory, when Arthur put an arm on the sofa back behind him and all thought of the jumper fled.

*** 

Christmas eve brought a hooked-handled umbrella to Merlin’s shop. It wasn’t blue and white, but it was certainly something a gentleman wearing the things he’d been sent thus far would carry. All he needed was a nice pair of trousers and he would be ready for a night out in the West End. Maybe he’d ask Morgana for tickets to the new show she was in – he thought it was Twelfth Night. He went to bed that night and lay awake worrying over who it could be. Who did he want it to be? Could it really be Arthur? He felt like someone was trying to buy him, and he wondered what would arrive on Christmas, which was also the last day of Hannukah. 

The next day, nothing arrived at the shop. Merlin wondered about that, but then all the others had arrived late in the afternoon and he closed at 1. He got home in time to eat a light lunch topped off with the last of Mum’s sweeties, and headed upstairs to wrap some gifts for his friends and to get ready for the party at Morgana’s. She was expecting them all early, for punch and biscuits, she said, and presents before dinner. 

It had just gone five when they arrived, to find the party in full swing. Merlin had ridden over with Arthur in a taxi. Arthur insisted that he knew they’d all be drinking and he didn’t want to have to fetch his car before driving to his grandfather’s estate the next morning, but Merlin suspected it was so he didn’t have to leave his precious M6 out on the street at Morgana’s, however nice the neighborhood. 

***

Everyone was there, and Morgana pressed caviar and drinks on everyone – her “punch and biscuits” – before sitting down to open gifts. Rather than taking turns, everyone just sailed into the piles in front of them. Arthur didn’t have anything from Morgana, but he had a nice wine from Gwen and Lance, a new Waterman ball point from Leon, and an assortment of other gifts from his friends. He wasn’t paying much attention to anyone but Merlin, who’d opened a calendar featuring naked Uni rowers from Gwaine and Elena (it was some sort of fundraiser, they insisted, not porn), an enormous bottle of whisky from Morgana, and some other gifts before getting to the small white and blue wrapped box at the bottom of the pile. It was the watch from Arthur, and he’d inserted a note claiming responsibility for all the other gifts. It also contained a line asking Merlin if he’d like to go out together some night. Arthur was fairly confident that Merlin would go out with him, and even if he didn’t, then Arthur felt that Merlin at least would let him down easy. 

Still, Arthur felt very nervous as Merlin opened the gift to find the stainless steel, blue-faced watch inside. Merlin’s forehead crinkled, and then he picked up the note that Arthur had folded into a tiny square and stuck behind the watch face. Merlin glanced up at Arthur, and took the note. Arthur watched as Merlin’s eyes scanned the lines, ready with a smile when Merlin looked up.

Only Merlin didn’t, and he didn’t all evening. Arthur found that every time he approached a group containing Merlin, that the other man was just leaving. Merlin sat all the way at the other end of Morgana’s dining table, and talked animatedly with Elyan. 

Arthur felt his heart was in his shoes, but he wasn’t a Pendragon for nothing, and so, when he saw Merlin slip out onto the balcony he followed. No one else was there.

“So, I guess it’s a no, then,” he opened.

Merlin kept his eyes on the horizon. “I can’t believe you bought me all those expensive things,” he said.

“They were Hannukah gifts,” Arthur said. 

“You were buying me, weren’t you?” 

“What? No! I just – ”

“You just bought me a tonne of expensive gifts and then you asked me out, like you wanted to make sure I couldn’t say no!”

“No, I just wanted to give you some nice things and I – ”

“So now my things aren’t nice enough for you?”

Arthur rubbed his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry, I just wanted to do something nice. I was worried you’d feel like you had to give me a load of things in return and I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to do that. But I didn’t do it so you would have to go out with me. Do you really think I’m desperate?”

Merlin didn’t answer. He turned on his heel, brushed past Arthur, and went back inside. Arthur followed him after calling a cab, and told Morgana he was going home and he’d see her the next day. He didn’t see Merlin at all, but Morgana told him that Merlin was staying over in her spare room. Arthur didn’t think there was anything left to say, so he left.

***

 

Early the next morning, Morgana found Merlin sitting with a cuppa on a stool in her kitchen. 

“Oh, darling,” she said. “Now, tell Aunty Morgana what the hell Arthur did to you, so I can kill him later with a good conscience.”

“He bought me a load of nice things and asked me out,” Merlin said.

Morgana stared. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Expensive things, Morgana, like… like he was buying me.”

She sighed. “Merlin, love, Arthur doesn’t think like that. He has buckets of money. You know Dad is rich, and Grandfather is rich. My mum wasn’t, not a bit of it, but I did well modeling, and Arthur’s mum was a model and a rich man’s only daughter, so he’s got her money as well. Not to mention his posh job. He’s rolling in it. What did he buy you, a jet? An island?”

“Sweater, cufflinks, diamond tie pin, Hermes tie, and a watch,” Merlin said. “All secret, except the watch. He had things delivered to me at work.”

“Darling, for Arthur, those are just normal gifts. My mother’s family wasn’t like that, so I know what you mean. Normal gifts from Oxford Street, small things from the pound shop. But for Arthur those things are more or less the same as what he bought you. Did he buy you a Rolex?

“Bulova.”

“A nice watch, but not exactly what Arthur would consider expensive. Have you seen his car? It’s a £100,000 pound car, but Arthur paid cash. And he’s got a garage at Grandfathers with 3 or 4 restored classic cars. He won’t bring them into London because he doesn’t want them scratched. Grandfather gave him a Rolex for his 13th birthday because he said young boys shouldn’t have really nice watches. Really, darling, he wasn’t trying to buy you.”

“Now I feel stupid,” Merlin said. 

“Not a bit of it. Delivering things to you at the shop… well, that was probably his way of stopping you feeling like you had to give him things, or being romantic, or something.”

“He asked me out, and I accused him of trying to buy me.”

“Oh, love. Well, I’ll talk to him, if you like, or maybe just get him to talk to you?”

“I couldn’t really believe it was him, Morgana,” he confessed. “Arthur wants me? Why? He can have any guy he wants.”

“Arthur’s not as stuck up as all that. You’re the owner of a successful business, you went to the best college at Cambridge, and you’re exactly his type.”

“Skinny with big ears?”

“Smart, funny, relaxed, and, yes, physically he likes the look of you. I should’ve sent him a picture of you, that would’ve got him straight to pub night months ago and you wouldn’t mind his gifts now. Why don’t you go home, and talk to him before he leaves?”

Merlin tried, but missed Arthur – not by much, if the still-warm kettle said anything. Damn.

*** 

Morgana swirled into the sitting room at her Grandfather’s and greeted her family before taking a seat next to Arthur, who looked wrecked. 

“Didn’t catch Merlin before you left, then,” she opened. 

“Left as early as possible. Didn’t want to see him yet.”

“Why?”

“I like him, Morgana, a lot. I have for months. I used to go in his shop and moon over him like a love struck teenager. I was totally ridiculous. He sent me a load of mixed signals but I decided to risk it and he thinks I was trying to buy him with gifts.”

“Not any longer,” she said. “I explained about all this.” She waved a hand, indicating the lead crystal, the medieval weaponry, and the original oils by all the old masters. 

“That doesn’t mean he wants me, though,” Arthur persisted.

*** 

Nearly a week passed before Arthur went home. He timed his arrival for just after noon, when Merlin would be at the shop, and he took to his room early to avoid his roommate. It was torture, but Merlin would be out in a couple of weeks and then it would be over. He’d just have to find a new corner shop.

Merlin knew Arthur was back. He also knew Arthur genuinely liked him, because Morgana couldn’t help trying to fix them, and he knew his crush on Arthur wasn’t going away. Arthur’s closed door between them was like a slap to his face, but he knew his jump to the wrong conclusion had caused it. 

Next day was New Year’s eve. Morgana was having another large ‘do – she loved entertaining. Merlin wasn’t sure what to do. Arthur was going, Morgana had made sure. She’d even booked a car – she said for the both of them. Merlin thought maybe he should leave the car to Arthur and go to Morgana’s alone. He thought for a long while about how to apologize before he hit on just the thing to make Arthur understand without words that Merlin was sorry. He got ready while Arthur was closeted in his room, and made his way across town to Morgana’s. The Piccadilly line was packed, and Merlin hoped that he wouldn’t be stuck on a night bus with this load of people later. 

*** 

Arthur stepped into Morgana’s with a pained smile. He was an hour later than he’d promised but he hadn’t been able to make himself come up the lift in her building. He had sat in the lobby since the car had dropped him. He knew Merlin would be here, but it was a large flat and he hoped he could avoid him. 

The gods weren’t smiling on him – or maybe they were. Merlin was standing with his back slightly toward the door, and, if Arthur’s eyes weren’t deceiving him, he was wearing the blue jumper Arthur’d sent him. Then Merlin turned, and Arthur saw the glint of the silver pin in the tie he’d sent. A path opened between them, like some kind of romantic film. 

Merlin walked toward Arthur, who didn’t seem to be able to do anything but stand stock still. The party went on around them, but no one paid them any attention – Morgana was telling a roaring story about some Hollywood star who thought he could act on stage, and all eyes were on her.

“Hello, Arthur,” Merlin said upon reaching his side.

“You’re wearing it,” Arthur said.

“Yes. I was… wrong to accuse you of trying to buy me. Nothing in our friendship could have given me that idea. I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

“But why? And why did you send me such weird mixed signals?”

“I didn’t think you could really … be into someone like me. And I had a stupidly bad boyfriend at Uni and haven’t had much luck since.”

Arthur exhaled in frustration. “I came into your shop for months trying to figure out if you were at all interested in me. I even started to think you might be straight!”

Merlin looked a little startled. “Morgana said, but I didn’t really believe her. What would someone like you want with someone like me?”

“You’re successful, and kind, and gorgeous.” Arthur ran a finger across the back of Merlin’s hand. “There’s something about you, Merlin,” he said. 

“Do we have to wait until midnight to kiss? Because I really want to kiss you right now,” Merlin said in a low tone.

Arthur grinned. “Balcony?”

“Balcony.”

They stepped out onto Morgana’s balcony. It was cold and dry, the kind of night when it might snow. Merlin leaned into Arthur’s embrace. His breath ghosted over Arthur’s ears and Arthur leaned a cheek against Merlin’s. They turned clumsily toward each other.

It wasn’t the world’s greatest kiss. First kisses rarely are. Too much figuring out of position, too many teeth, too many thoughts. It wasn’t the world’s greatest kiss, but it was theirs. 

They stayed on the balcony until they were cold through and their fingers were icy. They laughed, and kissed, and murmured sweet things. When they finally fell back through the door, hand in hand, Morgana raised an eye brow and a glass. The clock showed only a few minutes to midnight, and Arthur fetched two glasses of champagne from a tray on the sideboard. 

As their friends counted down to midnight, Merlin regained Arthur’s hand, and squeezed. They toasted the New Year, drank their champagne, and kissed again. This time, their friends did see. They endures several minutes of good natured teasing before they were able to leave the flat – Arthur had directed his pick up to be moved up to just after midnight, thinking he would want to escape from Merlin, never dreaming he’d want to escape with him.

Once inside the taxi, Merlin took Arthur’s face in his hands. He kissed him again. Arthur felt his smile blossom against Merlin’s mouth. 

“I could love you,” he said.

“Me too,” he replied.

The streets were crowded with people celebrating the New Year, but Arthur felt more like Christmas had come a little late this year.


End file.
